


Spark in a dead pan.

by Cookiecrumbs



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alien Biology, Bullying, M/M, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 02:31:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookiecrumbs/pseuds/Cookiecrumbs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Words of hate left mute in his mouth, Mituna stays silent about a shameful attraction.</p><p>Hints of Mituna/Cronus blackrom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spark in a dead pan.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for bullying, masturbation and alien anatomy.  
> If you do not wish to read on such subjects please pressed the back button as promptly as possible.

Cronus had really managed to rile Mituna up this time. The yellow blood’s body was tense with frustrations and his mouth was filled with words he wished he could have said. He could never say them. He could never scream at him the way he wanted and in the end all that ever came out was: “I’m sorry”. It destroyed him inside and left him feeling even more useless and pitiful than usual. He was trash. He was disgusting trash just like Cronus said. He couldn’t even defend himself like a normal troll.

With a small whimper Mituna flopped down on his pile of broken skateboards. The sharp edges dug into his sides and the wheels made the area plenty lumpy but he didn’t mind much. Everyone had a place they liked to rest and this was his. The small pains only reminded him that even the dead could feel. Even someone who was dead and without a mind could register when they were being hurt.

Light yellow-tinted tears dampened the large quantity of hair they shielded his eyes beyond his helmet. His body buzzed with anger and hate under his jumpsuit. It felt like his skin was alive with the pure agitation that sparked in his lower stomach and spread through his torso and limbs. 

He hated him.

He hated him so much and it was anything but platonic.

The damaged troll could feel that spark of frustration changing and taking a different form. It was changing into something he didn’t want. He never liked to feel the claws of hate-laden lust running along his thin body. It scared him.

Mumbled sounds of incoherent distress spilled past Mituna’s dark grey lips. With a quiver he could feel his sheath opening between his thighs. 

He didn’t want to feel this.

The yellow blood’s twin bulges were cramped in the jumpsuit as they slipped out and it hurt. It hurt real fucking bad. 

He knew what was going to happen.

With shaking hands he tried to get off his jumpsuit but couldn’t seem to figure out the puzzle. He had to hurry but he knew he would never make it in time.

Before he could even find the zipper the twin bulges dipped downwards to rub against his nook. The unstable troll screamed and grabbed at the disobedient bulges through the cloth of his jumpsuit. He couldn’t get a good grip. He could never get a good grip.

Much to Mituna’s dismay the damn things pressed inside. His own bulges were brutal and unforgiving to his tight nook. They always were. They assaulted both sides of his split nook with equal excitement. They curved along his sensitive center wall and buried as deep as they could in him.

It hurt and yet it felt so damn good. They knew just where to rub and the right way to move. No matter how much they hurt him they always managed to bring him into the pit of ecstasy. Even when yellow blood began to run down his thighs and dampen the legs of his suit they managed to still make him wilt in pleasure. Yet still he began screaming.

Mituna was terrified of the sensations of pleasure. He hated them and wanted them to stop. The pain did not scare his as much as the heated sensations running through his body. His clogged mind filled with images of that conceited face. The sharp-toothed smile that brought him so much internal agony haunted his head.

He hated him.

He hated him too much.

The low blood never wanted to hate him this much. He wanted to remember him as his friend. He wanted to remember they playful teasing and the laughter they once shared. That was gone now. All those sweet memories were replaced by the mockery and the hateful glances.

As the images of his ex-friend grew dense he released. Deep inside himself both of his bulges released their full amount of material. It felt terrible. 

Sobs wracked Mituna’s slender body as he filled himself to the brim with genetic material. He could feel it seeping through his jumpsuit and running onto the shattered remains of his boards. It would join all the other yellow stains on the graveyard of skateboards and old affections. It was just another fuck up. Another series of words he could not say. Another moment passed where he proved that he was just the trash that Cronus saw him as.

God he hated him.

He hated him with every bit of his unbeating heart.

He just wished he had never loved him once.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry my writing is poop.  
> I'm also sorry my summaries are poop.  
> I am poop.  
> 


End file.
